Read Online Small Town Sinners by Melissa Walker - Free Book Online
Authors: Melissa Walker
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him the way my dad described it to me when I asked for more details after the Hell House meeting—the girl on the table, bleeding a lot, the doctor pulling a fake fetus out of her body (it’s hidden under the sheet), and all the screaming.
Ty’s eyes bug out when I’m done.
“What?” I ask.
“You know that’s not what it’s really like, right?” he asks.
“What what’s really like?” I ask.
“An abortion,” he says. “I mean, not like I know firsthand, but I’m pretty sure it’s quick and clean and safe ninety-nine percent of the time.” He raises an eyebrow. “And I’m positive that it doesn’t involve major blood or anything really violent. Most women walk out the same day.”
“How do you know so much about abortion?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” says Ty. “The Discovery Channel?”
“Well, it’s more like we’re dramatizing something for theatrical reasons,” I say, though I guess I hadn’t ever really thought about what an actual abortion might be like. I don’t want to seem stupid to Ty.
“Anyway, Abortion is one of the more serious scenes, like Suicide and Domestic Abuse—those are the heavy ones.”
“So you’re admitting those are worse than Cyberporn?” Ty asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Those are worse.”
Ty smiles at me in a self-satisfied way, like he won a point or something.
“But all are bad!” I say. “I mean, that doesn’t give you free rein to go home and log onto BigBoobsandButts.com tonight.”
“How did you know about my favorite site?” Ty asks, standing in fake indignation and offering me a hand.
I let him pull me up and we both laugh. I can’t believe I just used the words “boob” and “butt” in front of a guy, even if it was in a website name. But it feels okay, it feels easy.
“It’s after eight o’clock,” says Ty. “I should get home.”
“Me too,” I say quietly.
Ty looks at me and smiles. Then he puts his hand on my cheek.
“Thanks, Lacey Anne,” he says, his face leaning closer. “I really feel like I can talk to you. I knew it would be that way.”
He stares right at me and I can hardly breathe as I see the flecks of green in his blue eyes.
I’m about to lean into the kiss that I feel hovering between us. I want this to happen. I want to let go.
Then Ty lets his hand fall and says, “You’re just too good for me.”
After a silent ride home, in which I try to figure out all the ways in which I could have been kissed but wasn’t, Ty drops me off on the curb with a wave. I hug myself and rub my bare arms, daydreaming about what might have happened, how perfect my first kiss could have been. How perfect it might be with Ty.
I stroll up the driveway and into the house about ten minutes before nine, which is my summer curfew (and a full two hours before Starla Joy’s). Dean doesn’t even have one. Usually Mom and Dad are in bed reading by now, but when I walk into the living room I hear Dad say, “Lacey, come sit down. We need to talk,” while Mom shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
I sit in the big chair next to the sofa and fold my hands in my lap, the way Mom likes me to. “Is everything okay?” I ask.
Dad looks pensive; the lines in his forehead seem darker and deeper tonight.
I suddenly wonder if I’m in trouble. That’s never happened before. I can’t really be in trouble because I’m home on time and I told Mrs. Tuttle that I was with friends, and that’s not a lie—I was—and I realize that my palms are starting to sweat. I’m almost glad that Ty didn’t kiss me today, because maybe I’d look different after being kissed. But as it is, I haven’t done anything wrong. Not that being kissed would be wrong, really, but maybe my parents would think—
“You were out with Tyson—I mean Ty—Davis?” says Mom, interrupting my thoughts. And even though it’s a statement, I hear a question mark at the end, like she’s not sure. I also detect a nervous hum in her voice.
That’s when I realize
Ty’s eyes bug out when I’m done.
“What?” I ask.
“You know that’s not what it’s really like, right?” he asks.
“What what’s really like?” I ask.
“An abortion,” he says. “I mean, not like I know firsthand, but I’m pretty sure it’s quick and clean and safe ninety-nine percent of the time.” He raises an eyebrow. “And I’m positive that it doesn’t involve major blood or anything really violent. Most women walk out the same day.”
“How do you know so much about abortion?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” says Ty. “The Discovery Channel?”
“Well, it’s more like we’re dramatizing something for theatrical reasons,” I say, though I guess I hadn’t ever really thought about what an actual abortion might be like. I don’t want to seem stupid to Ty.
“Anyway, Abortion is one of the more serious scenes, like Suicide and Domestic Abuse—those are the heavy ones.”
“So you’re admitting those are worse than Cyberporn?” Ty asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Those are worse.”
Ty smiles at me in a self-satisfied way, like he won a point or something.
“But all are bad!” I say. “I mean, that doesn’t give you free rein to go home and log onto BigBoobsandButts.com tonight.”
“How did you know about my favorite site?” Ty asks, standing in fake indignation and offering me a hand.
I let him pull me up and we both laugh. I can’t believe I just used the words “boob” and “butt” in front of a guy, even if it was in a website name. But it feels okay, it feels easy.
“It’s after eight o’clock,” says Ty. “I should get home.”
“Me too,” I say quietly.
Ty looks at me and smiles. Then he puts his hand on my cheek.
“Thanks, Lacey Anne,” he says, his face leaning closer. “I really feel like I can talk to you. I knew it would be that way.”
He stares right at me and I can hardly breathe as I see the flecks of green in his blue eyes.
I’m about to lean into the kiss that I feel hovering between us. I want this to happen. I want to let go.
Then Ty lets his hand fall and says, “You’re just too good for me.”
After a silent ride home, in which I try to figure out all the ways in which I could have been kissed but wasn’t, Ty drops me off on the curb with a wave. I hug myself and rub my bare arms, daydreaming about what might have happened, how perfect my first kiss could have been. How perfect it might be with Ty.
I stroll up the driveway and into the house about ten minutes before nine, which is my summer curfew (and a full two hours before Starla Joy’s). Dean doesn’t even have one. Usually Mom and Dad are in bed reading by now, but when I walk into the living room I hear Dad say, “Lacey, come sit down. We need to talk,” while Mom shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
I sit in the big chair next to the sofa and fold my hands in my lap, the way Mom likes me to. “Is everything okay?” I ask.
Dad looks pensive; the lines in his forehead seem darker and deeper tonight.
I suddenly wonder if I’m in trouble. That’s never happened before. I can’t really be in trouble because I’m home on time and I told Mrs. Tuttle that I was with friends, and that’s not a lie—I was—and I realize that my palms are starting to sweat. I’m almost glad that Ty didn’t kiss me today, because maybe I’d look different after being kissed. But as it is, I haven’t done anything wrong. Not that being kissed would be wrong, really, but maybe my parents would think—
“You were out with Tyson—I mean Ty—Davis?” says Mom, interrupting my thoughts. And even though it’s a statement, I hear a question mark at the end, like she’s not sure. I also detect a nervous hum in her voice.
That’s when I realize
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